


trapped within my skin

by peachsneakers



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Intrusive Thoughts, Morally Neutral Deceit Sanders, Platonic Intruanxceit, Self-Harm, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Sympathetic Remus Sanders, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 14:22:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20622470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: Remus can'thelpit.If only Thomas would believe him.





	trapped within my skin

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [control](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19997248) by [peachsneakers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers). 

> this is a scene originally from "control" that i edited/expanded a little because hoo boy, intrusive thoughts and i wanted it to be a separate thing, too
> 
> also warning for violent as h*ck intrusive thoughts and self harm!

Remus flings himself to the floor, not even looking at the rumpled, unmade bed. Why is Thomas so _stupid_? Why does he _hate_ him so much? His lungs feel like they're burning, like they've caught on fire, and all he wants to do is writhe in the flames. His fingers clutch at his chest, nails digging into his skin, as he imagines ripping his heart out, watching it slowly come to a stop in one bloody fist. What would it feel like? Would it hurt? Remus doesn't usually feel pain like the others. His nails dig in more insistently, and he can feel a thin, hot trickle of blood down the center of his chest.

"Remus, _stop!_" Virgil shouts, alarmed, and the next thing Remus knows, Virgil is there, prying his hands away with strength born of Anxiety's toughest reflexes. Sometimes only Virgil is strong enough to take Remus on, not that he'll ever admit it.

"Hey," Remus giggles wetly, unable to stop himself. His eyes burn. "Do you think we can die? Do you think I need my organs? Do you think I _have_ organs?" He looks down at the bloody ruin of his chest in interest. "Let's find out!" He says, clapping. His hands are stained red. He wonders why for a moment until he looks down again. Right. He did that.

"Remus, _please_ calm down," Virgil says. Remus blinks in surprise to see Virgil's eyes are wet. Is he _crying_? He reaches out and traces salt and blood down Virgil's cheek, then licks off his finger, ignoring Virgil's shudder.

"Thomas hates me," he sing-songs. "Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, guess I'll go eat worms... I've tried that," he adds, rocking back and forth on the floor, relishing the sting of his self-inflicted wounds against the fabric of his shirt. "They're _slimy_. You know what else is slimy? Intestines." He fumbles at his shirt, wanting to scratch _that_ skin away, too, but Virgil is there, holding his hands in a vise grip.

"You're no _fun_, Anxiety," Remus pouts. 

"Yeah, I know," Virgil growls. "I don't care. You aren't ripping out your own intestines to find out what they feel like." Remus thinks he hears a gasp, but shakes his head. It's just him and Virgil, just like old times. But that's-

"Where's Deceit?" He asks suddenly. 

"He'll be here in a minute," Virgil says. "Thomas needs him." Remus frowns, his face growing ugly for a second.

"Thomas needs _him_," Remus says. "Not me. I'm _useless_." He bangs his head against the wall, sending a jolt of pain through his skull and down his neck. Then he rolls his neck experimentally, listening to it crack, and does it again.

"Stop that," Virgil says through gritted teeth. "You're gonna hurt yourself."

"What's wrong with that?" Remus asks, tilting his head to one side. "Aww," he coos. "Does widdle Virgey Wirgey _care_?" Virgil's cheeks go bright red as Remus cackles, the sound tinged with hysteria.

"Remus," and it's Deceit's voice, Deceit's face, Deceit's whole body, swiftly kneeling next to him and giving him a quick once-over, assessing the damage he's done.

"Don't worry," Remus says bitterly. "Virgil wouldn't let me do hardly _anything_."

"That's not what your chest says," Deceit says in a mild tone. "What were you trying to do there?"

"Rip my heart out," Remus cheerfully admits. "Do you think I could?"

"If I say 'no', would you take that as a challenge?" Deceit asks. Remus cocks his head, then nods, almost eager. "Right, I'm not doing that then," Deceit says. "Virgil, can you get the first aid kit?"

Deceit takes over holding Remus's wrists. His grip isn't quite as panicky tight as Virgil's, but there's steel beneath the soft fabric of the gloves, and Remus knows he can't buck Deceit off. Damn it.

"Here," Virgil says, back too soon. 

"Right, off with the shirt," Deceit says.

"Oh, well, if that's what you want," Remus says brightly. He snaps his fingers and his shirt is off, messily folded at the bottom of his bed. Without his shirt to cloak the damage, the raw, bloodied lines drawn with his own nails are more livid, a messy snarl concentrated over his heart.

"Well, you've done a number on yourself," Deceit remarks, pulling out an alcohol wipe as Virgil takes his hands back over. Remus wonders if he has enough leverage to kick them. He doesn't think so. 

"Like it?" Remus grins. It doesn't reach his eyes.

"It's certainly interesting," Deceit demurs. The alcohol stings, bowing Remus's back for a moment. Gauze follows, neatly sealed on all sides with a particular brand of medical tape, the only kind Remus can tolerate without tearing his own skin off.

"Remus," Deceit says, capturing his attention. "Thomas has something he wants to say to you." Deceit carefully moves aside, just a little, and Remus's eyes widen when he sees that Thomas, Patton, Logan, and his brother have joined them. Patton is crying silently. Roman looks stricken to the heart.

"I don't want to hear it," Remus blurts out. "Go away. I'm _fine_, go away, I don't need your stupid pity, go away, go away, go _AWAY_!" His voice cracks on the last and he can feel hot tears seep down his cheeks, burning like acid.

"Remus," Thomas says, his voice tear-choked. "I'm so _sorry_."


End file.
